Stuck At Home
by phoebenpiper
Summary: Jess and Becker have their first encounter after the beetles, an awkward encounter that is overheard by a distracted Emily and an amused Matt.  Spoilers for episode 5.4.


Stuck at Home

a Primeval fanfic by phoebenpiper

Spoilers: This takes place the morning after episode 5.4. Note: I have not yet seen 5.5, so hopefully it doesn't contradict with anything. If so, live with it!

. . .

Emily sighed in exasperation at the laptop screen in front of her.

Back in her day - "Victorian times", according to her new friends - she'd often felt confined, due both to the social mores of her time as well as the constricting corsets, but never had she felt such frustration at being stuck at home.

Not literally, of course - with all the hubbub of electricians buzzing about, trying to fix the damage done by the beetles yesterday, there was no mistaking the ARC for "home". Yet here she sat, constrained, and it was all the more frustrating because this was her own doing.

Despite the traumatic events that had led up to her return, she was pleased to be back in the 21st century. However, she'd already become aware that her lack of knowledge in certain areas was going to be a detriment. It was obvious that information was readily available to anyone with a keyboard, but Emily was unfamiliar with their strange arrangement. Of course she'd heard of the Pterotype, but a woman in her position had had no reason to learn to use one...until now. But watching Jess's fingers fly across the hub, Emily had announced to Matt that she needed to learn to do the same.

"Touch typing?" Matt had asked, sounding more than a bit skeptical.

"If that's what it's called. I need to be able to access information quickly, without constantly having to..." She pantomimed searching about awkwardly for the correct key.

"Hunt and peck?"

Emily failed to recognise the amusement in Matt's tone.

"Yes. How do I learn?"

But that conversation had been two days ago, before Connor's anomaly and its subsequent arrivals had threatened to kill them all. Thus she'd been surprised when this morning Matt had suddenly thrust a laptop in front of her.

"Here," he'd said, his own fingers momentarily flying across the keyboard. "This should keep you out of trouble for awhile."

"Trouble?" She'd felt her anger rising at the accusation. She'd done her best to help out Matt and the team ever since she'd arrived, even staying behind to help with the beetles. So to now be accused...

"It's an expression," he'd quickly explained, turning the laptop towards her. "Try this."

Across the top of the screen was a strange phrase that Emily barely recognised as English: www. typeonline. co. uk. Scanning down the screen, she realised what this was, what Matt was giving her - a chance to learn to quickly obtain keyboard information like the others. She immediately sat down and started reading the background information on the history of the QWERTY configuration, not even noticing when Matt walked away, leaving her alone.

But now it was obvious she was alone, for she longed to talk to someone. ANYone!

Because she'd never been so bored in her entire life! She'd been stuck typing only the letters found in the home row for the past half hour, and she thought her head might explode if it went on much longer.

She was now thoroughly convinced that A was a completely useless vowel by itself:

_sad fad lad salad_

She'd never imagined she'd be so excited when G and H were finally introduced, but those two letters had greatly expanded the variety of words she got to type:

_flash half flag glass hall_

But that still wasn't enough to save her from her boredom.

And frustration! Patience had never been a virtue Emily possessed. This fact had been a constant source of contention between her and her passive mother, who failed to acknowledge that her daughter was a doer, a problem-solver. Why couldn't she see that Emily's temperament simply wasn't meant to sit for hours on end embroidering or pressing flowers?

Or typing the same few letters over and over!

Yet here she sat, still only on the first lesson, despite all her efforts! Why couldn't she be proficient at this so-called "touch-typing" already? Why was this taking so bloody long?

The screen suddenly flashed "Well done!" as Emily reached the end of yet another series of words. Emily shook her head - how could the computer possibly consider her performance "well done"? She'd made 18 mistakes and her speed was only 22 wpm (which she'd worked out to mean "words per minute"). She sighed, knowing deep down that she should repeat the tedious exercise once again before moving on. Resisting the urge to charge ahead heedlessly, she fumbled with the laptop's touchpad, moving the arrow to the button that read "Repeat" and clicking it.

But just as she started to type again, she caught motion out of the corner of her eye - a figure in black heading towards the hub. She didn't need to look up to know who that would be...and what he would be doing. And while she knew she should be concentrating on the words flashing across the screen in front of her, Emily's mind, desperate for some distraction, couldn't help but seek out something more interesting than the vexing letters she was typing over and over.

"Hey, Jess," Emily heard Becker say.

"Oh! Hey...good...Becker...g'morning."

Jess sounded more flustered than usual, and Emily imagined it had something to do with embarrassment over the events of yesterday. Once the excitement had abated, the girl had grilled Emily repeatedly over what had transpired following the insect bite and subsequent allergic reaction. Jess had spent most of the conversation with her head in her hands, her face a brilliant crimson, as Emily'd related what had transpired during her delirium.

"I said THAT?!" Jess had wailed at one point. "I could just die!"

"I'm not certain Becker would let you," Emily had teased good-naturedly. She didn't understand why Jess was so upset when clearly her words hadn't bothered the soldier at the time.

Though today was another matter. Something was clearly bothering him, for it seemed he was nearly as flustered as Jess.

"You're looking good...better, I mean...than you did...after the...how are you feeling?"

Emily stifled a laugh at the sheer patheticness of the two of them. This was certainly not the sort of wooing she was accustomed to. Courting was so much easier back in her day.

Emily involuntarily gasped at her own thought. Had she really just longed for those stifling "Victorian" rituals she'd so recently fled from?

Yet she now realised that those rituals did have some value. When Henry was courting her, there'd been none of these sorts of awkward encounters, no stammered conversations nor flustered interactions.

Though perhaps things would've been different if she'd actually been in love with him.

Absently Emily glanced around the ARC, wondering where Matt was, before returning her attention to her typing.

. . .

"I'm feeling much better," Jess said, surreptitiously trying to cover her thigh with her skirt, hoping Becker wouldn't notice the large bruise. Unfortunately, today's skirt was as short as all her others, which meant there was no fabric available to cover anything extra.

And the motion of her hand from the hub down to her lap must've caught Becker's attention for his eyes suddenly widened in horror, obviously having caught sight of that which she most wanted to hide from him.

"Did I do that?!"

"It's nothing!" she insisted, giving up on her skirt and frantically covering the purplish mark with her hand. "Really! I mean, you had to..."

She trailed off as Becker placed his hand over hers and gently pushed it aside, out of his way, so that he could get a better look at the contusion. Her breath caught at the intimate touch as his hand came to rest high up on her thigh, but he was too focussed on the wound, and his own guilt, to notice.

"Jess, I am SO sorry," he said, clearly distressed at the idea that he'd caused her any harm. "I didn't mean to...see, my military training was aimed more at utility than delicacy," he explained.

Yet the way he was tenderly touching her now was beyond delicate, and she was so fixated on his touch that she couldn't even tell him that it was okay, that the injection he'd administered had saved her life, that the bruise was a small price to pay for still being here. Next to him. Feeling his touch.

Becker must've come to his senses at the exact same moment she did for they simultaneously jumped back from each other, their faces red.

"Sorry, Jess! I didn't even realise..."

"No problem!" Jess reassured him quickly, for his touch was certainly NOT the problem.

The real problem was that she had no memory of him touching her yesterday. No memory of him carrying her in his muscular arms or holding her shivering body close against his warm chest...or being willing to risk the lives of all Londoners just to save hers. Emily had freely given all these details last night, albeit in her typical cold, blunt fashion, but that hadn't helped Jess make sense of the vague, scattered memories she had.

And she desperately wanted to make sense of them, to remember. Considering the mere touch of Becker's hand on her thigh just now had made her all tingly inside, she could only imagine how good the rest of it must've felt.

Although she supposed the tingly feeling could just be an after-effect of the adrenaline injection.

. . .

"Oh, uh, here."

Becker thrust the two epi pens towards Jess. He'd been so distracted by his guilt over hurting her - and then accidentally inappropriately touching her - that he'd completely forgotten the entire reason he'd come over.

"I brought in a whole box," he explained as she warily accepted the pens. "I put most of them in the medical bay, but I thought you should keep a few here at the hub."

He saw her shamefully lower her eyes and suddenly realised she must've mistaken his gesture to mean she'd behaved irresponsibly. Although that was the furthest thought from his mind - the closest being that he didn't ever want to risk losing her again - he now felt like a prat for making her think he blamed her for any of what had happened.

"The ARC should've had these available," he quickly continued, hoping to allay her guilt. "For everyone's safety, of course. Seriously - what kind of idiot would neglect to stock a medical bay with epi pens?!"

And what kind of soldier would neglect to double-check that sort of thing before such an emergency arose? But that would never happen again - he'd resolved last night to personally remedy the situation...and to start carrying one with him at all times, determined never to be caught unawares again.

"Emily filled me in on what happened," Jess began, still avoiding eye-contact. "I...I don't really remember much."

"It's probably for the best," Becker said, desperately wishing he could forget. But unfortunately he could remember in excruciating detail every minute, every single agonising minute of thinking he was going to lose her.

"Apparently I...said some things," Jess continued.

Becker shrugged. "You were delirious - people say all kinds of things."

"I called you 'mean'!"

Becker laughed at how upset Jess sounded over such an innocuous word. "Believe me, I've been called much worse."

"But I shouldn't have said-"

"You don't owe me an apology, Jess."

If anything, he owed her one. She'd almost died on his watch, and he felt responsible.

And he was going to do everything in his power not to let it happen again.

. . .

Rushing about all morning, Matt had periodically noticed Emily intently working on his laptop. He was amazed at her powers of concentration, especially with the chaos going on throughout the ARC today. He'd hoped that the typing lessons would keep her out of trouble, but he'd had no idea how quickly she'd take to them, and he was pleased to see her so involved in learning to adapt to this world.

For that meant she was truly here to stay.

He hadn't, however, seen Abby or Connor here yet this morning, and he hoped that they'd had a chance to work things out. He felt guilty for having outted Abby's involvement in the sabotage, but as it turned out, the stolen harddive data had helped save their lives. Yet he knew that the three of them would need to have a talk to discuss all the things they'd not had time to dwell on yesterday during the emergency.

In the meantime, he decided to check on Emily. Not that she really needed checking on, but Matt rationalised that she was still adjusting to the 21st century and would appreciate the company.

"Hey, Emily, I-" he began, but he was interrupted with a curt, "Not now, Matt - this is timed."

Emily's determination to master the keyboard was like her determination for everything, and he couldn't help but admire it.

Even if he was now forced to stand here doing nothing until she finished.

"Becker!"

Jess's frustrated tone caught Matt's attention, refocussing it onto her distant conversation.

"If you won't let me apologise, at least let me THANK you," Jess continued. "I owe you my life...or at least a drink?...Dinner... maybe?"

Matt was amused to notice Jess's voice rising far higher at the end of her sentence than an ordinary interrogative.

"You don't owe me anything, Jess," Becker insisted, his words clearly filled with self-blame.

But the girl must not have noticed his tone, for even from across the ARC, Matt could see her face fall. Becker must've seen it as well for he quickly continued, "But we should definitely have dinner together. Just to celebrate. We're lucky that Connor didn't kill us ALL with that gamma pulse thing."

"Yes...to celebrate," Jess concurred, her smile returning. "Thank goodness for lead walls and all that."

"Exactly." Becker nodded, as if to convince himself that this was the real reason for the dinner invitation.

"So...if we're celebrating..." Matt could hear the tentativeness in Jess's voice, as if she dreaded finishing the question for fear of what the answer might be. "Should we...perhaps...invite the others along?"

Becker looked stricken at this suggestion.

"No!"

His answer was so strong that even some of the electricians looked over. The soldier himself seemed surprised at how vehemently he'd objected and quickly softened his tone to continue, "I'm sure they're all...busy or something."

"Yes...busy," she repeated, nodding absently. She then thought a moment before asking, "And...um...WHEN exactly are they busy?"

Becker seemed to consider carefully before answering almost nonchalantly, "Tonight?"

Jess's face lit up in a radiant smile.

"Tonight! That'd be lovely." She must've noticed the excessive enthusiasm in her voice for she quickly added more calmly, "And yes, I'm sure everyone's busy tonight. So," Jess's tone sounded hopefull as she confirmed, "I guess it'll just be dinner for the two of us then?"

Becker nodded slowly, as if not wanting to betray any of his own underlying emotion. "I guess so. Just the two of us...to celebrate!" he quickly added onto the end.

"Yes, of course. A celebration. Hooray for the panic room!" Jess feigned waving her hands up in the air, but Matt could see the look of true joy in her eyes.

Becker gave a cursory nod, but Matt could detect a tell-tale smile attempting to break free. The soldier started to saunter away but then turned back to add, "So I guess I'll just...swing by at the end of shift?"

"FINALLY!"

Matt whirled around to see Emily's face triumphantly glowing in the dim light of the laptop screen.

"You done?" he asked, amused, as if the answer wasn't evident in her delighted expression.

"I did it, Matt! I mastered the bloody thing!" Emily looked immensely pleased, which Matt realised was a good look for her. "No more being stuck on that frustrating home row," she continued. "I finally get to move on to the next base...or line...or whatever. Other vowels, here I come!"

Matt didn't quite understand her last comment but smiled at her enthusiasm nonetheless. "Congratulations, Emily. You'll probably be programming all these computers before you know it." He was teasing, of course, though a part of him wondered if it might not be true.

And while it was hard to take his eyes off of Emily's self-satisfied grin, Matt was momentarily distracted by the last lingering glance shared between Jess and Becker before the soldier departed into the bowels of the ARC.

Matt somehow suspected that Emily wasn't the only one who was done being stuck at home, who would soon be moving on to the next base...or line...or whatever.

. . .


End file.
